Unexpected Complications
by marecalore
Summary: Mare and Maven's journey through Red Queen and beyond. Time lapse between Chapter Five and Six.
1. Chapter 1

He meets his mother's steely gaze with feigned indignation, her voice inside his head, a quiet reminder of the plan that lies between them. Cal grabs his arm to put him back in place, and Maven lets him do it easily. Let him think he's doing the right thing; his ego is large enough as it is anyway. Maven feels a twinge of disgust as he stares down at the girl before him, his soon-to-be fiancee; his gaze raking over her sunken eyes and dirty fingernails. A rat, street trash. Still, there's a certain fire in her wide brown eyes that makes him rethink his words.

She asks his name, despite hearing it only half an hour before, turning towards him with almost mocking smile and he has to grit his teeth to keep from attacking her. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and her eyes gleam with victory. He wonders what she wants. Attention? A death sentence?

He doesn't feel pity towards the girl, not yet anyway. If he knew her better, he might even say she deserved it. The girl needed to put in place, with that wild tongue of hers. With a quiet sigh at the weeks to come, he allows his servants to herd him upstairs to dress for the ball.

She looks different in the dress, with her hair sleek and shiny and her makeup done to perfection. He thinks for a minute that she looks beautiful, but quickly pushes the thought away. Even the pounds of foundation and the diamonds around her neck can't hide the fear behind her silent mask, her much too thin body trembling slightly as she struggles to remain in control.

He feels something akin to sympathy for the girl, especially as Evangeline Samos tenses in her seat, looking all but ready to leap across the room and sink her claws into the Red. He steps forward at his mother's insistent nudge, stammering slightly over the words his father had been drilling into his head not one hour earlier.

The girl's voice is quiet, though her hands tremble with nervous, "I pledge myself to you, Maven Calore. I accept."

He can see how desperately she fights to hide the trepidation she must feel on the inside. The next few weeks won't only be hard for him, he realizes. He starts to step back, but pauses and gives her the smallest of encouraging smiles.

Her eyes meet his for a split second, and he thinks he may see some gratitude there before his mother pulls him back.

She does an excellent job of ignoring him, he notes with a mixture of amusement and irritation. She pointedly avoids his gaze and ignores every conversation he attempts to strike up. She's a piece of work, he thinks grimly. Though her stubbornness might have something to do with all the alcohol she's singlehandedly consuming. Without another thought, he pulls her goblet right out of her hands, "That's enough of that."

She frowns, muttering in annoyance. He fights the urge to roll his eyes, instead leaning forward on his elbows and forcing as much sincerity as he can muster into his voice, "I'm sorry about earlier, Mareena."

She looks away from him, "I'm sure you are." Her voice is snide. He bristles; who does she think she she is?

He looks at her intently, hoping his explanation will weaken that cold wall of hers. Sure enough, her eyes soften just the slightest bit and she glances around, "Who would you have chosen?"

It catches him off-guard and he follows her gaze, his eyes skimming over the multitude of noble young women in the room. He recalls another face then, one he might've loved, but shoves the image away before he can dwell on it. He shrugs casually, "No, I didn't have anyone in mind. But it was nice to have the option of a choice, you know?"

She smarts at his words, and opens her mouth slightly before pressing her lips tightly together. He wonders if his words have somehow upset her, and inches forward, indulging her a bit further.

He's surprised at the anger in her voice when she speaks, her voice barely a whisper, "You and your brother have everything, Prince Maven. You live in a palace, you have strength, you have power. You wouldn't know hardship if it kicked you in the teeth, and believe me, it does that a lot. So excuse me if I don't feel sorry for either of you."

She meets his gaze without flinching, and anger wells in his chest. He's a prince, for God's sake, does she honestly think she can speak to him this way? But his rage fades as he remembers a dying boy's last words, the glimpse of a desolate village on the way to battle, and the emptiness in Mare's eyes when he'd first seen her.

"You're right, Mareena," he breathes, "No one should feel sorry for me."

The pity is bright in her gaze and she lifts her hand hesitantly, as though she might put it on his arm before lowering it back to the table. She's quiet for the rest of the night and he breathes a sigh of relief when his father stands. He follows, pulling Mare to her feet and taking her hand. He mutters the names of the other nobles as they pass, and she leans into him slightly to hear. She smells like flowers, he thinks out of the blue, her hand warm inside of his much larger one.

He meets Cal's gaze just before they exit and his brother raises one single questioning eyebrow. Sure enough, the space between him and Mare has grown smaller than appropriate. He steps back, wondering if the girl had even noticed and why on earth he hadn't.

His parents break apart as soon as they're out of view, the queen dismissing the rest of them with her quiet authority. Cal steps forward just as he does, volunteering to escort Mare and Evangeline back to their rooms. He glances at his brother, startled. Does Cal look...threatened? His eyes dart warily between Maven and Mare.

"I can take Mareena, Mavey can escort Evangeline," Cal offers quickly and their father agrees, though his eyes narrow a bit. Maven purses his lips at the nickname, his gaze slipping to his fiancee, wondering if she's picked up on it. The corner of her lip is turned upwards, a small smirk.

Sighing, he holds out his hands to his brother's fiancee, a she-devil in disguise. She snipes at him, and he finds himself stepping back, unnerved by her aggression. Is she always like this? He feels a twinge of pity for his older brother.

He looks back at Mare, noticing the rigidness of her stance as she remains at his brother's side. She's not even looking at Cal. "Goodnight, Mareena," he says, and her gaze locks on his for a second as she gives him a tiny smile.

Strangely enough, there's a smile on his face as he takes Evangeline's arm. But the bitch is quick to wipe it off.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few weeks are frustrating, to say the very least. Mare avoids him like the plague, and his mother's frustration grows as his belief in their plan fades. He's tried everything; offers to give her a tour of the castle, inquiring about how she's adjusting. He's even taken up purposely waiting outside of her Lessons for her, just to get her attention.

Needless to say, it's not working.

Elara's even more short-tempered these days; even shutting him out as she continues to stress over the disintegration of her plan. She even snaps at him now, and one day he barks back sarcastically, "Do you want me to kidnap her and force her to talk to me?"

Somehow, he doubts even that would get Mare to acknowledge his presence. The girl is nothing if not stubborn.

He's walking to his rooms after Training one day, gingerly rubbing his sore muscles, when he hears her voice. "Let go of me," she says, her voice breaking, and he hurries forward, quickly dismissing the Sentinels surrounding her. They stare at him, and anger glints in their hard eyes. He resists the urge to smirk. It's good to be a prince.

His smugness fades as he takes in Mare's appearance, from black makeup streaked cheeks, puffy eyes and trembling hands. She attempts to hide her face from him, turning away and swiping weakly at her teary eyes. His heart goes out to her just the slightest bit.

"We have working showers inside, you know," he says, just to ease the thick tension that has settled between them.

She sniffs, feebly, "First rain of the season. Had to see it myself."

He finds himself rolling his eyes at her weak excuse. "Right," he says stepping forward slightly. She doesn't pull away but her scowl deepens as she takes in the knowing smile he's painted on his face.

"You can stop pretending to know anything about me or my feelings," she says, her voice laced with irritation. She turns away now and it's all he can do to not grab her shoulder and force her to turn around and look at him.

A sudden rage bubbles in his stomach. He's so frustrated with her, with his mother, with Cal…"You think I don't know how difficult it is to be here? With these people?" The words leave his mouth before he can stop them, spilling from his lips on their own, "I can't say what I want, do what I want—with my mother around I can barely even think what I want. And my brother—!"

"What about your brother?" her gaze settles on him, clear and unwavering.

"He's strong, he's talented, he's powerful—and I'm his shadow. The shadow of the flame." Shame burns through his body and he expects the knowing in her eyes to turn to disgust but instead she just stares at him. Her gaze is sharp, though not unkind.

He exhales, slowly, shifting back into the man he was raised to be, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's fine," she murmurs. "It's nice to hear that I'm not completely alone in feeling out of place." He looks at her then, surprised at the fact that she's opening herself up to him. Her vulnerability shocks him; for the past few weeks the girl has been made from steel. Still, he hears a familiar warning ring out in his head. Vulnerability is a weakness. He doesn't know what she's used to, but here any kind of weakness can destroy you.

"That's something you should know about us Silvers. We're always alone. In here, and here," he says, pointing between his head and his heart. "It keeps you strong."

"That's just stupid," she tells him, and he chuckles darkly. Her naivety is startling.

"You better hide that heart of yours, Lady Titanos. It won't lead you anywhere you want to go."

He watches the shiver run through her body. She shakes her head, as though she's trying to clear it, "I should get back to my lessons," she mutters. Before she can turn to go, he catches her arm.

"I think I can help you with your problem."

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "What problem?"

He doesn't know why he's doing this. She's nothing to him. Just a pawn in his game. Something to help him get to the throne. Still, his heart twists just a little bit as he takes in her tear-stained cheeks.

"You don't seem like the type of girl to weep at the drop of a hat. You're homesick." He holds up a hand before I can protest. "I can fix that."

The tension between his brother and Mare is palpable.

He can literally feel the hair on his arm stand up as their gazes lock on one another; a silent standoff. Finally, Cal sighs, relents. He senses his brother's reluctance, and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can speak Mare flings her arms around his neck.

There's something strangely intimate about having her body pressed against his, his head buried in her sweet-smelling hair. He can feel himself blushing; the heat from her body seeping through both their clothing to him. Cal watches the gesture with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw and it's his ever watchful gaze that causes him to drop his arm from around her and step back.

"Thank you," she breathes, and her gratitude is clear in her brown gaze. He nods back, trying to keep himself from smiling at her happy face. He turns away, his heart heavy in chest at the prospect of leaving her alone with his brother.

His senses are on fire. He watches with bated breath as Mare ducks and dodges Evangeline's attacks, swiftly managing to put down the knife-wielding warrior with her own bursts of shockingly purple lightning. She moves with ease he, nor Cal, could ever muster, slipping and sliding along the shadows, making her difficult to locate.

It's because she's a thief, he realizes and nearly laughs, his fiancee is a thief.

His amusement quickly fades as the battle turns deadly. Mare forces Evangeline to the floor, ready to finish her off when the metal-clad teenager turns on her back quickly. It's the spurt of red blood, so quick it was probably missed by everyone else in the room, that has him on his feet before he knows it, his hand erupting in flames within milliseconds.

He wants to burn Evangeline's smirk off her face, and nearly does so, but it's the sight of Mare on the ground beside the girl that sends him rushing to her side. He pulls the tie out of her silky hair, letting it fall to shield her bleeding face from the onlookers. He hooks an arm around her waist and she presses into his chest as he leads her to the room.

His heart is hammering as he walks her to Julian's, and he's terrified, perhaps more than she is.

He doesn't understand it, doesn't know why, doesn't know anything except he can't lose her.


	3. Chapter 3

The feeling in his stomach as he watches his brother twirl his fiancee around the sitting room is a mixture of anger, jealousy, and oddly enough, betrayal. He feels as though he's been sucker-punched and it catches him off-guard, because isn't he one that's supposed to be playing her? He's not supposed to feel like this, not supposed to want to run in there and shove Cal off of Mare-and possibly over the edge of a balcony.

The air around him heats up and he takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His gaze flits back to the screen, back to where Cal's arm is wrapped around Mare's waist and her hand is clutching his. His heart squeezes painfully, and he has to remind himself that this is exactly what he wants.

Ammunition.

This is all that this is. Something to use against his brother, to turn the whole country against him, to make everyone believe the story his mother has so carefully concocted. He exhales loudly, a small smile creeping up on his face as he recalls his meeting with Farley only minutes earlier.

The Guard trusts him so blindly at this point he almost wants to laugh at their stupidity. But of course, it helps that he has Mare on his side. He drums his fingers against the control board as Mare and Cal move on the screens, thinking back to the details of the meeting and the names he had so easily given up.

Reynald Iral. Ptolemus Samos. Ellyn Macanthos. Belicos Lerolan.

Ptolemus Samos was an excellent murderer. Maven's lip curls in disgust. Not many would miss him. He may actually be doing many other people a favor.

Ellyn Macanthos had ridiculed him in front of his father and brother the last time she'd watched him train. And her death would likely keep Cal at home, in their Father's sight, when he and Elara struck with their plan. As for Belicos Lerolan and Reynold Iral, he felt slight remorse. Especially for Belicos, who was a father. But he and Reynald were simply collateral damage-names he had thought up on the spot.

He glances back at the screen, the sitting room now empty. Mare must be heading back to her rooms.

Where he would be waiting for her.

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Maven watches quietly as she enters the room and shuts the door with a gentle thud. She doesn't even bother looking around, clearly not expecting anyone so late at night. Suddenly she pauses, stiffening, her gaze darting around the room. His lips curve upward into a smirk; she must've realized that the cameras were off.

He steps out of the darkness, throwing aside to curtains so he can see her. The panic in her gaze is obvious.

"Late-night walk?" he asks, not even bother to keep from sounding bitter. Let her feel guilty.

Her mouth falls open and he watches her struggle to from words, "You know you're not supposed to be in here." Her smile is as forced as the ones he wears at balls and feasts. "Lady Blonos will be scandalized. She'll punish us both."

Oh he's well aware of the wrath Blonos, and his Father, will unleash on them both if they ever find out about his late-night visit to Mare's room. Thankfully, neither of them ever will.

"Mother's men owe me a favor or two," he says, pointing to where the cameras are hidden. "Blonos won't have evidence to convict."

She shivers in her thin nightgown, the moonlight casting an eerie glow over her pretty face. In that moment, she looks less like a member of the Scarlet Guard and more like a scared teeanger. He watches with satisfaction as she blushes red. He reaches out, letting a hand graze her smooth cheek and the color residing within them. "I wish they wouldn't have to paint you up every day." It's not a lie; she's much lovelier without the ghoulish paint they plaster on her face everyday.

"That makes two of us."

He tries to smile, but the weight of the decision he'd made earlier that night presses down on him now. He lets himself think about the people, the lives, he's given away and for the first time, guilt sets in.

"What's wrong?" Worry has crept into her tone. 

"Farley made contact again." He draws back from her, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide trembling fingers. "You weren't here."

"What did she say?" Her eyes are wide with curiosity.

Maven shrugs. He walks to the window, staring out at the night sky, remembering Farley's interrogation. "She spent most of her time asking questions." The mercenary had been relentless in her pursuit, forcing answers out of him that he hadn't wanted to give.

"Who? Maven, who did you give up?"

In that moment, he hates her. Hates her for kissing his brother, for playing into his mother's plan-even though it's exactly what he's supposed to want. He hates Farley too, and the entire Scarlet Guard. But most of all, he hates himself, for his own weakness, for what he's done. He spins around, eyes flashing. "I didn't want to do it, but she's right. We can't sit still; we have to act. And if that means I'm going to give her people, I'm going to do it. I won't like it, but I will. And I have."

He draws a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself. "I sit on councils with my father, for taxes and security and defense. I know who will be missed by my—by the Silvers. I gave her four names."

"Who?"

"Reynald Iral. Ptolemus Samos. Ellyn Macanthos. Belicos Lerolan." A knife twists in his gut. What has he done? He remembers Belicos' laughing sons from a ball months before.

Mare sighs, her eyes glimmering with sadness. "Colonel Macanthos knew your mother was lying. She knows about the other attacks—"

"She commands a half legion and heads the war council. Without her, the front will be a mess for months."

"The front?"

Maven nods. "My father will not send his heir to war after this. An attack so close to home, I doubt he'll even let him out of sight of the capital." His lip curls. His father would never risk his precious boy.

"Two birds with one stone," Mare breathes. Tears well in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Her blatant distress is like a punch to the stomach. It dawns on him then that she cares. She doesn't know any of the people he's just mentioned, yet she's in pain at the thought of their deaths. He's known them all their lives and all he could think about when he gave them up was how their ends would bring him one step closer to the thing he's always wanted.

Mare is good.

And all he's going to do is destroy her.

"Your friend's part of this too." He forces himself back to the room, putting away his thoughts. With a heavy sigh, he explains their plan. "The Guard will be at the ball tomorrow, hiding. At your signal, they'll begin the gunfire, targeting the four I named."

"And what if we fail?" she asks when he finishes, finally speaking aloud the words he's been skirting around.

He barely shakes his head. "That won't happen." His mother will ensure it.

"But what if we do? What happens if we fail, Maven?"

His breath rattles in his chest as he inhales, fighting to remain calm. "Then we'll be traitors, both of us. Tried for treason, convicted—and killed." She looks terrified, struggling to hold onto her emotions. He wants to wrap her in his arms, tell her that they won't fail, that they won't be caught-not if his mother has anything to do with it.

But he can't.

So he simply stands there, watching helplessly as her calm shatters and the first tear makes it's way down her cheek.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi. Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I have no excuse for not updating in so long, except school and writer's block, which are really crappy reasons. I'll try to post more soon, but the updates going to get a bit sporadic in the next few months so please bear with me.**

 **In other news, who is as excited as I am about the FOURTH book? I mean, seriously, I flipped my shit. Guys, this means Maven has THREE more books to redeem himself instead of two. Before I start ranting, here's the fourth chapter. Enjoy!**

He spends five minutes pacing his room, fists clenched, jaw tight, wondering just how bad it would look if he punched his brother in the face. Maven had known, of course, about the growing attraction between his older brother and his fiance; watched the loaded looks Cal sent in Mare's direction, seen the way their touches linger longer than necessary. Not to mention the late night dancing practice. But this is the ultimate betrayal.

His brother kissed Mare.

And she responded.

A knock at the door startles him and he swallows his anger momentarily as he forces a calm look to his face, returning to the polite man he was raised to be. The Sentinel gives him a quick nod before escorting him from the room. The burly man steps back as they approach Mare's room and Maven groans as he realizes that he's meant to be taking her to the ball.

He can't handle facing her right now.

The door to her room creaks open and he forces himself to look straight forward. He can't risk doing something stupid, not when so much depends on this night. She stands beside him and he risks a look in her direction.

Wrong move.

"You look beautiful," he mutters, glancing down at her dress. The strapless, glittering thing hugs her slender frame and her dark hair tumbles down her shoulders. With her wide eyes and soft red lips, she's nothing short of stunning.

"I just want this to be over." She won't look at him, and he wonders, if she did, whether or not he would find any guilt in her eyes.

"It won't end tonight, Mare. This won't be over for a long time. You know that, right?" She hesitates, and his jaw tightens. "Mare?" he prods, and his own voice trembles slightly.

"Are you afraid, Maven?" she whispers. "I am."

He considers this; is he afraid? His mother's made it perfectly clear that even if their plan fails and everything goes to hell, she'll make sure he won't get hurt. And if he's learned anything over the last seventeen years, it's not to doubt his mother. However, he does find himself feeling scared. But not for himself. He's afraid of losing her.

But he can't exactly tell her that. Not when she'd been kissing his brother all of twelve hours ago.

"I'm afraid of failing. I'm afraid of letting this opportunity pass us by. And I'm afraid of what happens if nothing in this world ever changes." He's surprised to find himself speaking honestly, growing hot as the fervor in his voice increases,. "That scares me more than dying."

She nods along, slowly, though doubt still remains on her face.

"Rise," he murmurs comfortingly in her ear, "Red as the dawn."

They enter the ballroom and his mother forces a smile, her stare boring right through him as she glares at his hand inside Mare's. Ears growing hot, he lets go of the girl's hand and moves to stand by his mother.

"So how long do I have to be here?" He forces a whine into his voice, not finding it very difficult after years of practice.

"Maven, you can't just come and go as you please. You have duties, and you'll stay as long as you're needed." She fusses over him, adjusting his collar, his medals, his sleeves, and for a moment, he lets her do it. Because, even though she'll never admit, he's all she has in this world. And up until he met Mare Barrow, she was all he had as well.

His father casts him a disinterested look, "The boy's just bored. Not enough excitement in his day, not like back at the front," he says, running a hand over his trimmed beard. "You need a cause, Mavey."

He's almost learned to tune them out, these pathetic attempts by his father to take an interest in his youngest son, but today, in front of Mare, it makes his skin prickle. He wants to shout at his father, make him listen, but his mother's voice is soothing inside his head.

 _Our time will come, Maven._

Right. He exhales slowly, and sends a look in Mare's direction. It all comes rushing back to him in an instant. The plan. The Scarlet Guard.

"Cal's got his legion, he knows what he's doing, what he wants. You need to figure out what you're going to do with yourself, eh?"

"Yes, Father," Maven says through gritted teeth.

"I think helping me fit in here is cause enough for Maven," Mare jumps in, to his surprise. He shoots her a grateful smile, and he doesn't have to fake it at all.

"And what a job he's done," the king replies, looking Mare over in a way that unsettles Maven. "From what I hear, you're close to a proper lady now."

His father's forced smile causes him to clench a fist. To the King, Mare is expendable. She's to be used, and then thrown away. His anger fades, guilt setting in. Isn't that exactly what he's doing to her himself?

"I've had good help, my king." Mare bows, stepping away.

"Are we just about ready?" Cal's voice says from behind them and Maven's anger returns as he turns to face his brother. Evangeline smiles fakely, transforming from the she-devil he recognizes into the perfect princess-to-be.

"Your Majesties," she murmurs, and his father smiles at her, before clapping a hand down on Cal's shoulder. "Just waiting on you, son," he chortles.

Standing by side, they look almost identical. Maven watches them thoughtfully. He may share the same glossy black hair and tall build as them, but the resemblance between the three ends there. Maven's jaw clenches as Cal's gaze travels above his shoulder, to Mare, and he nods slightly. He doesn't turn and glimpse Mare's reaction, because the air around him is already growing hot and he can't risk combustion.

They shift into the lines, Mare by his side, and he hides a yawn as he turns to greet the hundreds of court members. Mare scans the crowd, and he knows exactly where her mind is at that moment. Ptolemus Samos is among the first to greet them, but Maven finds no remorse as he stares at the silver-haired killer. How many lives has Ptolemus taken? Certainly more than he's worth.

Ptolemus greets Mare with a firm handshake, quickly bypassing him and his brother before reaching his vile sister. Maven watches in mild amusement as they embrace, their metal outfits clanging together.

Mare bears the worst of it in the passing minutes, the target of cold sneers and untruthful, sharp words. He feels her tense as Ara Iral approaches, and she lets out a sigh of relief when the Panther passes her with nothing but a small smile. Reynald Iral is just behind her and Maven tries to look the tax collector in the eye, but it's difficult armed with the knowledge that he's a dead man walking.

He watches Colonel Macanthos approach Mare, the scars on her weathered face particularly striking amongst the lavish clothing and perfect appearances in the crowd. She doesn't seem to care in the slightest, giving his fiance a broad smile and a firm handshake.

There's a conflicted look on Mare's face as the woman leans closer and says warmly, "Every happiness to you, Lady Mareena." She inclines her head towards Maven, "I can see this one suits you."

He feels a jolt at those words, sneaking a peek at Mare while he extends his hand to the last member of the Iral family. She looks like she wants to run out of the ballroom any second, barely managing a faint smile as Macanthos playfully whispers a jibe at Evangeline into her ear. He wonders what she's thinking.

But then it's his turn to greet the Colonel, who offers him the same handshake and kind words as she did his fiancee. For a moment, he can't remember why he detests her so and why on earth he named her in the first place. But then she brings up the troops in Delphie and the plan comes flooding back to him. She'd humiliated him. And her death will serve a purpose.

Belicos Lerolan comes up after a mix of faces and greeting that all seem to blur together and he hears Mare's swift intake of breath at the sight of him, with his chestnut hair and sunset orange suit. Guilt radiates from every pore.

"A pleasure, Lady Mareena." He inclines his head in greeting, polite to a fault. "I look forward to many years in your service." Mare smiles, tight and forced. His wife, Susan, appears moments later, lugging two little boys, both with their father's jolly grin, and his heart plummets into his stomach.

These boys will never again see their father's soft smile, hear his gentle voice or feel his warm touch. And he knows better than anyone how much that can hurt.

It takes all he has in him to force a smile and shake the man's hand. Collateral damage, he repeats over and over again in his head. Just another sacrifice that needs to be made.

Next to him, Mare's face is ashen, her breathing coming in short, quick gasps. Her wide brown eyes are dilated with shock, staring at Belicos' back as he walks away, family in tow. She's not far from her breaking point, he thinks grimly. He'd been fearing this. A scene right now will be hugely inconvenient, not to mention suspicious, in front of so many High Houses.

"Excuse us a minute, wouldn't you?" he places a hand on her lower back, ushering her from the room. . "Mareena's still getting used to the excitement of court." Cal frowns, his eyes questioning as they hurry out, but Maven barely has time to celebrate the quiet victory before Mare explodes. She stumbles a bit as they move onto the balcony, but his hand curls over her arm to keep her from tripping over the bottom of her draping gown and over the edge.

"Children." The words rip out of her mouth, harsh and startling. "He's a father."

Guilt squeezes his insides. But he has to focus on the bigger task at hand. He must.

He releases his hold on her gently, and she slumps against the rail. He doesn't step away, staying just close enough so that he can feel her warm, minty breath on his face. She stares up at him, tears and confusion glistening in her eyes. He has to get through to her somehow, make her go through with it. He puts one hand on either side of her shoulders, trapping her in, forcing me to listen.

"Reynald is a father, too. The Colonel has children of her own. Ptolemus is now engaged to the Haven girl. They all have people; they all have someone who will mourn them." He feels nauseous just thinking about, spitting out the words quickly. "We can't pick and choose how to help the cause, Mare. We must do what we can, whatever the cost."

Even if it meant killing five innocent people and wrecking the lives of five innocent families. Even if it meant losing her.

"I can't do this to them." He hates the pain on her face, and the way it makes him want to put his arms around her and hold her until she forgets every bit of pain in the world.

"You think I want to do this?" he breathes, his mouth inches from hers. Her face is open, surprised. "I know them all, and it hurts me to betray them, but it must be done. Think what their lives will buy, what their deaths will accomplish. How many of your people could be saved? I thought you understood this!"

He hadn't meant to yell at her. God, the last thing he wants to do is hurt her more. He stops himself, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. When he collects himself, he raises a hand to her face, tracing the outline of her cheek with shaking fingers. She's so lovely and full of guilt and hurting just as badly as he is. "I'm sorry, I just—" His voice falters. "You might not be able to see where tonight will lead, but I can. And I know this will change things."

"I believe you," she whispers, reaching up to curl her slender fingers through his own. "I just wish it didn't have to be this way."

Over his shoulder, back in the ballroom, the receiving line dwindles. The handshakes and pleasantries are over. The night has truly begun. His heart hammers at the thought of what awaits them.

"But it does, Mare. I promise you, this is what we must do."

Her smile is weak, laced with sadness. "Okay."

"You two alright out here?"

For a second, Cal's voice sounds strange and high, but he clears his throat as he pokes out onto the balcony. His eyes linger on Mare's face. "You ready for this, Mare?" Satisfaction surges through Maven, so strong it might just knock him off his feet.

 _That's right brother, she belongs to me._

Maven answers for her, not giving her a chance to talk to Cal. "She's ready."

Together, they walk away from the railing and the night and the last bit of quiet we might ever have. As they pass through the archway, Cal reaches out and touches Mare's arm, ever so softly. Maven barely restrains himself from grabbing Mare's wrist and yanking her as far away from his brother as possible. He's never felt this way; so jealous, so possessive, so proprietorial. It frightens him, n̶e̶e̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ wanting someone this badly.

The music is already beginning to play as they make their way into the ballroom. Mare trembles with nerves and Maven's leans close to her ear, trying to reassure her, "This is the hard part." Maven leads us to the cleared spot in the center of the ballroom. "This is the hard part," he says, trying to calm me. Her body stops trembling, though her eyes are still wide with anticipation.

They begin to dance, Maven's feet easily moving in turn to the music. He tries to keep his smile from turning bitter as he feigns shock, "You've been practicing?" Jealousy prickles his skin, but he forces the thought away.

She bites her lip, glancing down, "A bit."

At least she hadn't lied.

"You're just full of surprises." He forces a chuckle.

Mare's eyes fixate on Cal, and it's like a stab to the stomach. Always the younger brother, the flame to Cal's shadow. To his surprise, however, she glances away from his brother and inches closer to him, so close, in fact, that he can see the flecks of green in her brown eyes. Her breasts graze his chest, her front pressed firmly against him. It's improper, indecorous…

Oh no.

 _Oh God._

His pants are suddenly tight, and he presses his lips firmly together to hold back his groan. Thankfully, she doesn't notice the way his breathing is suddenly erratic, his eyes wide as he struggles to remain in control. _Focus on the dance, Maven,_ he chides himself, _Think with your head, not with your…_

She shuffles even closer. His pants feel dangerously close to bursting. If he bends his head, he could kiss her. And he wants to. He wants to do more than kiss her. They spin across the dance floor, her gaze warm and curious as she scans the faces around them. She relaxes in his arms, moving with ease. For him, it's not so easy to dance with a giant bulge on the front of his pants.

"Thank you, Maven," she whispers, barely audible over the horrible music.

The guilt that slams into his chest deflates the situation he has going on his pants in a heartbeat. Her face is so, so close; so open, so trusting. It tears at his heart, making him want to curse his parents from driving him to this and himself for letting himself fall privy to his temptations. He'd just wanted to matter; to show the world he had just as much to offer as Cal. He hadn't counted on meeting his girl, who was both beautiful and brazen at once and made him question everything he'd ever known.

This girl who he was falling in love with.

"You don't ever have to thank me," his voice almost breaks, "Not for anything."

His feet are like lead as he ushers her over to edge of the dancefloor. No one even notices that they're missing. Mare hugs her arms, as though offering herself a last minute pep talk before they do the irreversible.

"Some refreshments?" Kilorn murmurs, appearing at their side suddenly, holding out a tray of the fizzy golden drink. Mare starts to wave him off and then stops, her eyes widening in surprise. The fisher boy does look different, Maven supposes, with his stiff new uniform and clean hair.

"This thing itches," he grumbles under his breath.

"Well, you won't be in it much longer," Maven says, fighting a smile at the way Mare rolls her eyes. "Is everything in place?"

Kilorn nods, his eyes darting through the crowd. "They're ready upstairs."

"You just have to give the signal." He holds out the tray and the innocent glass of gold. There's no going back now. His heart in his throat, he brushes his shoulder against hers, "Mare?"

Belicos. Reynald. The Colonel. Ptolemus.

 _I'm so sorry._

"I'm ready," she murmurs, her eyes slipping shut as the world around them flickers into darkness. As the shots ring out and the screaming fills his ears, he's left with one thought.

 _What have I done?_

 **Author's Note:**

 **Ok so I've finally decided where this story is going to go. As suggested to me by a really great reviewer, I'm going to have two alternate endings for the story, which will probably begin after Chapter Seven or so. One will be canon and the other not. The canon will likely go into Glass Sword, even though it hasn't been published yet. The other will deal with an entirely different situation, which you guys will hopefully be open to as well. Anyway, I'm not sure, but when I start writing the later chapters, rating may change to M. Nothing too graphic, but I'm paranoid. Thanks for reading and tell me your thoughts! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Maven dreams of Belicos Lerolan calling out for his sons while he heaves his last breath and Beth Macanthos' face, twisted in pain, as she stares down at her mother's dead body at her feet.

He wakes covered in sweat, chest heaving, fingers clutching his sheets. It takes him five minutes to start breathing normally before he climbs out of bed and walks on shaking limbs to get dressed. The castle is dark and silent, but he presses onward, knowing that one person is surely awake.

Sure enough, his mother is awaiting him in her bedroom, the door slightly ajar. It is just over five in the morning, but she's clear-eyed and extravagantly dressed, watching him out of the corner of her eye as he slips inside and shuts the door. Her eyes gleam with secrets.

"What is it?" he asks; there must be reason behind that knowing smile of hers.

"The prisoners have escaped," she says disinterestedly, glancing down at her cuticles.

"You let them go?" he asks, brows shooting upwards. It makes sense; no prisoners to question, no chance of giving him and Mare away.

"No," Elara sneers, "It was the work of that Red fiance of yours."

His heart hammers in his chest at the mention of her but he tries to force himself to look calm as he glances back at his mother, "Does anyone know?"

Elara's gaze is suddenly sharp with suspicion but she just shrugs her thin shoulders, "Not that I know of. Judging from the holes in the memories of more than one Guard from last night, she had the help of the Julian Jacos." Her lips curl into a distasteful frown as she says his name.

He exhales slowly.

Mare's safe.

His heart finally starts beating normally again.

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He meets Mare near her rooms just before sunrise. The makeup on her face can't hide the dark circles under her eyes, the exhaustion on her face. He wonders if her dreams had been just as haunted as his.

He forces a smile onto his face as he approaches her, "You're up early." Then he leans in, speaking in a low whisper. "Especially for having such a late night."

"I don't know what you mean," she says innocently, but the glimmer in her eyes gives her away. He recognizes the relief in them; her happiness that her friends have made their escape.

"The prisoners are gone. All three of them, disappeared into thin air."

Mare's demure expression doesn't slip and he lets his gaze slide upwards to one of the cameras facing them. Of course; she can feel them. Appearances must be kept up.

She places a hand to her heart, leaning towards him to whisper dramatically, "By my colors! A few Reds, escaped from us? That seems impossible."

"It does indeed." His eyes darken as he remembers the danger she'd put herself in by helping the prisoners escape. "Of course, that brings everything into question. The power outages, the failing security system, not to mention a troop of Sentinels with blank spots across their memories." He stares pointedly at her; doesn't she know that all clues point to her, just as long as someone looks closely enough?

Her gaze is hesitant, uneasy. "Your mother . . . interrogated them."

Oh she did much more than that.

"She did."

"And will she be talking to anyone else regarding the escape? Officers, guards—?" Her eyes are full of questions-and worry.

Maven shakes his head. "Whoever did this did it well. I helped her with the questioning and directed her to anyone of suspicion." Mare relaxes slightly, squeezing his arm gently as her warm gaze sweeps across his face. "Besides, we may never find who did it. People have been fleeing since last night. They think the Hall is no longer safe."

"After last night, they're probably right." She slips her arm into his, drawing him so close their shoulders brush. The entire side of him that's pressed against her hums. "What did your mother learn of the bomb?"

His annoyance sparks again at the mention of the so-called bomb, which he'd learned hadn't been a bomb at all. It had almost shattered Mare's- and his- faith in the Scarlet Guard entirely.

The thought is startling. Since when did he have any faith in a Red terrorist group?

Mare must be changing him in more ways than he'd thought.

His voice drops to a whisper. "There was no bomb. It was an explosion, but it was also an accident. A bullet punctured a gas line in the floor, and when Cal's fire hit it . . ." He trails off, letting his hands do the talking. "It was Mother's idea to use that to our, ah, advantage."

He winces slightly as he says it. Not even the Reds will stand will them now. After he takes the throne, the Guard will fall; as easily as his father and Cal if everything goes to according to the plan.

"She's turning the Guard into monsters."

He nods gravely. "No one will want to stand with them. Not even Reds."

Rage boils under Mare's calm exterior, her eyes lighting up with anger directed towards his mother. But then the fury is gone, replaced by something that makes her gaze soften, sadness crossing her face. If the Guard falls...Mare no longer stands a chance.

The surge of guilt is even greater than last night.

"How long do we have left here?"

Of course. Archaeon. He'd forgotten in all the chaos of last night.

"We go this afternoon. Most of the court is leaving before that, but we have to take the boat. Keep some tradition in all this madness."

Mare's gaze turns bitter, and he understands. The gap between her old life and her new one is widening even further. The journey to Archeon would be taking her even farther from home.

"At least you'll get to see your home again, if only for a little while," he says with a small smile , trying to be gentle. Mare doesn't respond, her gaze fixated on the ground.

The sound of a loud crash from a distant hallway distracts them both from the conversation. Maven starts forward warily, knowing that Cal's rooms are located at the end of the passage. He steps in front of Mare quickly, not wanting her to reach his brother first.

"Bad dreams, brother?" He calls out, secretly delighted to see the angered expression on Cal's face. He's pacing the stone floor in a new set of armor, nearly identical to Ptolemus Samos', fists clenched at his sides. When Maven glances back at Mare, he's even more pleased to see the hateful, angry look on her face.

She speaks calmly, "Will you be leaving with your legion?"

She's only doing it to rile him, Maven knows. It's obvious he isn't, from the frustration written plainly across his profile.

Cal takes a ragged breath. "The Shadow Legion isn't going anywhere. Father will not allow it. Not now. It's too dangerous, and I'm too valuable."

Excellent. Things seem to have played out exactly the way he was expecting them to. Even with his satisfaction, Maven can't help but wonder what their father would have done if it were him in Cal's position. Would he even have cared? He shrugs off the hollow feeling in his chest and rests a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You know he's right," Maven says, forcing himself to sound soothing, "You are the heir. He can't afford to lose you too."

 _But he will if Mother's plan goes accordingly._

"I'm a solider," Cal spits out, much to Maven's annoyance. He jerks away from his brother's touch, "I can't just sit by and let others fight for me."

Maven sneaks another peek at his fiance and he's surprised to find that she's just as irritated by Cal's behavior as he is. He sounds like a child who's just lost his favorite toy. Maven will never see what his brother finds so congenial about war; sitting in a cold trench while thousands of Red soldiers die around him has never been particularly appealing to him.

Mare's gaze flicks to him as Cal's obvious frustration grows and he realizes that she's waiting for him to speak up and get rid of his brother.

"Find another cause. Build another cycle, double your training, drill your men, prepare yourself for when the danger passes. Cal, you can do a thousand other things, and none of them end with you being killed in some kind of ambush!" he says, glaring up at his brother. Cal has so much; his father's affection, his strength, his ability, his title, yet he's willing to throw it all away for the sake of war? The thought has his blood boiling. But he can't let that show. Instead he smirks, "You never change, Cal. You just can't sit still."

After a moment of harsh silence, Cal breaks into a weak smile. "Never." His eyes flick to Mare, and Maven has to physically restrain himself from shoving his brother. He feels a twinge of satisfaction as she glances away, examining a painting on the wall. "Nice armor," she says acidly, "It will go well with your collection."

Cal looks stung, and Maven fights a smile. "This was a gift from Ptolemus. I seem to share a common cause with my betrothed brother." The emphasis on the word "betrothed" lingers in the air. Was that supposed to make Mare jealous? She doesn't look like she cares in the slightest.

But Cal having a common cause with Ptolemus Samos? Since when? Ptolemus was bloodthirsty and cruel, a natural born killer. Cal, although a soldier with a inclination for war, was none of those things. And although Maven wanted to see his brother fall, he certainly did not want Cal to turn into something that he was not.

Maven eyes the armor warily. "What do you mean?"

"Ptolemus commands the officers in the capital. Together with me and my legion, we might be able to do something of use, even within the city." Cal lifts his chin slightly and the pride in his gaze makes Maven's stomach turn. Who was his brother becoming? Lately, when Maven looked into his brother's eyes, all he could see was a reflection of men like Ptolemus and their father. What had happened to the boy who'd laughed and played with toy soldiers as a child? To the boy who'd made the girls ask Maven to dance at balls just so he didn't feel left out?

"And what is that, exactly?" Mare's voice is shaky.

"I'm a good hunter. He's a good killer." Cal takes a step backward, walking away from them. His face is cold, holding no semblance of the boy Maven had once known, "Between the two of us, we'll root out the Scarlet Guard. We'll end this rebellion once and for all."

A chill slips down Maven's spine as he watches his brother stride away. Cal may think he's saving his country, but all Maven can see is his brother slipping farther and farther down a dark path he may never be able to come back from.

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Mare slips away when he and Cal are bidding their goodbyes, perfectly playing the parts of the dutiful princes. In actuality, Maven can scarcely concentrate on what he's doing; his mind on the journey to Archeon and what lies beyond. When he's finally finished, he manages to get away to go look for Mare. Lately, he always seems to be seeking her out.

He wonders if maybe he's getting too attached.

He finds her near the water, arms wrapped around herself as she paces the length of the dock. He falls into step next to her, not speaking for a minute and just listening to her breathe. Finally he mutters, "The Sentinels from last night have been reassigned."

 _Reassigned._ More like sent to the front to await their deaths.

"The first to die," Mare states matter-of-factly.

He nods, soberly.

"And Lucas? I haven't seen him since yesterday—" He nearly winces at the mention of the magnetron, flashing back to the memory of him on his knees at his mother's mercy just hours earlier. Elara had locked him up in the Bowl of Bones and when he'd asked why she'd only smiled thinly, "You'll see when the time comes."'

But he can only shrug now, forcing out the lie through gritted teeth, "He's all right. Traveling with House Samos, regrouping with family. The shooting has everyone on their heels, even the High Houses."

Mare looks relieved, sending another pang of guilt through him. He bites his lip, glancing to the ground, "But not for long. Answers are coming."

"What do you mean?" Mare's gaze flashes to his.

"They found blood down in the cells. Red blood." The sample would eventually be traced in the blood base, and the owner hunted down and killed.

"So?"

"So whichever friend of yours had the misfortune to be wounded won't be a secret much longer, if the blood base does its job."

"Bloodbase?" Mare cocks her head, looking confused.

"The blood database. Any Red born within a hundred miles of civilization gets sampled at birth. Started out as a project to understand exactly what the difference is between us, but it ended up just another way to put a collar on your people. In the bigger cities, Reds don't use ID cards but blood tags. They're sampled at every gate, coming and going. Tracked like animals." Disgust creeps into his voice.

Mare's face turns ashen, her eyes wide with something akin to terror. "And they—they can figure out whose blood it is, just like that?"

"It takes some time, a week or so, but yes, that's how it's supposed to work." His gaze lands on her trembling hands and without thinking he takes them in his own, pulling her close, "Mare?"

"He shot me," she whispers. "The Sentinel shot me. It's my blood they found."

He feels as though he's been kicked in the chest, and for all his diplomatic training he can find nothing to say as he gazes at her dumbly, the shock of her words sending a jolt through his body. The grief that slams into his chest has nothing to do with the fact that if she's found out his plan to take the throne will be foiled. No, it has something to do with the fact that he _loves_ her and she's going to die and he doesn't know what he's going to do without her.

He recoils at the word inside his own head.

 _Love._

He's never felt like this before, at least not to this degree. When Mare's around, his heart feels like it might just burst out of his chest, as cliched and corny as that sounds, and when he's not with her, he cannot breathe until he sees her again.

"It's too bad we didn't stay longer," I murmur, looking out at the river. "I would have liked to die close to home." He stares at her, at the pain that's masked by the cool indifference and he wishes, just once before she dies, to kiss her.

So for the first time, ever, he does exactly what he wants.

He feels her jolt of surprise as he presses his mouth to her own and forces himself to slow down. But she just tugs him closer, her mouth opening and beginning to move against this. He pulls away after just a few minutes, her breath warm on his face. They're still so close that he can see where her eyelashes brush her cheeks every time she blinks.

"I will fix this," he murmurs against her lips, meaning every word, "I won't let them hurt you. You have my word."

It's the truth. He will do everything in his power to keep her alive.

"Maven, you can't fix everything." She looks conflicted, as though she wants to believe him but doesn't have enough hope to actually do so.

"You're right, I can't," he replies, an edge to his voice. "But I can convince someone with more power than me." As much as it pains him, he will suffer the humiliation of asking his brother for help if it means saving her.

"Who?"

In response, he kisses her again, his hand tangling in her silky hair. But an abrupt rise in temperature tells him they're not alone. Anger floods him as he pulls back from her, eyes flashing in annoyance. He turns to Cal, jaw tight, but his brother won't even look at either of them.

"The queen requests your presence on the viewing deck." Cal's voice is hard. He sounds almost angry, but his bronze eyes are sad. "Passing the Stilts, Mare."

Cal's eyes fall on him, and Maven nearly stumbles at the anger and jealousy burning his brother's gaze, along with a disappointment that startles him. He recognizes these emotions, for they are the ones he's worn every time Cal was given something that he was not. Which happened more often than not.

 _She's mine now, Cal._

"Thank you, Cal," Mare murmurs, looking disoriented.

Cal walks away, his usually straight back bowed. Maven stares after him, lips pursed. He's never seen Cal defeated at anything really.

He turns to Mare, "He does not like to lose. And neither do I. I won't lose you, Mare. I won't." Her eyes are so wide and trusting, her entire body pressed against his.

"You'll never lose me."

It's a lie and they both know it.

 **Ok so I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I'm probably going to wrap up the events of Red Queen by Chapter Seven (or maybe even Chapter Six if I make it really long). Since I'm doing two different endings, I am going to write the non-canon one first, which will be strictly Mare/Maven and will follow their lives outside the castle. WARNING: RATING MAY BE SUBJECT TO CHANGE. It's not going to be graphic or anything but I'm just paranoid. I'll let you guys now if the rating does change. As for the canon ending, I will be posting it after I finish the first ending. It will include a bit of Mare/Cal (ugh, I know) but will eventually end up as Mareven. Also, I'm warning all of you Maven-lovers out there (me included) because there's a big ouch for him in the middle of the canon. But I love him so he's going to end up happy and yes, there will be an epilogue with Mareven babies in both endings.**

 **Reviews are love ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

Okay, so as you will probably figure out, there is a time lapse between this chapter and the last. I know it sucks but I just couldn't motivate myself to finish writing the events of the book and skipped to after Mare and Maven were captured by Cal. My apologies to anyone who was looking forward to that scene! Maybe I'll finish the book at a later date. Anyway, when this chapter takes place, Mare and Maven have escaped Archeon and he confessed everything about his and Elara's plan to her.

I'm really sorry for the long wait. I know I said I wouldn't be like those authors who make you wait months for an update but here I am so...sorry again! Also, things get a little...heated in this chapter so if you don't like, don't read. Enjoy!

 **Chapter Six**

The house is tiny, perhaps even so by Mare's standards given the way she wrinkles her nose as they troop through the front door. He's been watching her for a while now, out of the corner of his eye, not daring to speak. She's been silent for the past hour or so too, but he chalks that up to residual shock settling in.

Or so he hopes.

Maybe she's just decided to take back that second chance.

The thought is terrifying.

"Where are we?" her voice jerks him from his thoughts and he looks up to see her blinking at him, her gaze betraying no emotion.

"About forty miles south of Archeon," he says, clearing his throat as he speaks, "Still another fifty-five miles from Naercy. The next train leaves tomorrow morning." He rubs the back of his neck, "I thought we should spend the night here while we wait."

She raises an eyebrow, "How did you even know this place was abandoned?"

"There's a soldier base half a mile up there," he nods outside the window, "Sometimes, when I'd get bored, I'd slip away to look around. I found this place when I was fourteen."

A ghost of a smile crosses her face and for a minute her cool composure lifts. He takes advantage of the moment to reach for her hand, trying to ignore the shiver that goes through her body at his touch. She shrinks away from his, almost by accident, sending a wave of agony through his chest.

He'd never meant to hurt her.

He drops her fingers without speaking, and she pulls away from him instantly, going over to stand closer to the door. For a minute, he thinks she might run out the door but then she stops, squeezing her eyes shut. Her lips pinch tightly together as an internal war seemingly wages inside of her, her eyebrows furrowing. Finally, her gaze settles back on him, and the icy wall has receded completely.

"I'm going to have to forgive you, aren't I?" she says, her voice sounding dangerously close to breaking.

"Mare-" he starts, but she waves him off.

"I love you, Maven, don't you get it?" frustration bleeds into her tone, "When I met you two months ago, I never even thought that I could like you, that we could be friends. But when I got to know you, I started to trust you. And that may not seem like a big deal to you, it is to me. I don't trust. Not ever. But something about you made me open myself up in a way I've never done before. I fell in love with you." Tears stream down her cheeks, "And you took advantage of that, of me. You deceived me, lied to me, and betrayed me a thousand times."

She draws a ragged breath, "And I should hate you, shouldn't I? But I don't. _I can't._ Because there's something inside of me that just won't go away; something that keeps drawing me back to you. I have to forgive you, Maven. Because I am _irreversibly_ in love with you and if I don't I might just go out of my damn mind."

She stares at him, chest heaving, cheeks wet with moisture as more tears glimmer in her eyes. She doesn't look so tough, suddenly. She looks broken down, battered, and completely vulnerable. And it's all because of him.

The guilt is like a punch to the gut.

"I'm sorry," his voice is barely a whisper, "I'm so sorry, Mare."

"Can I ask you a question?" she's not looking at him but he nods anyway.

"Why?" her face crumples as she utters the syllable and she bites her lip, turning her face away again. Even from several feet away, he can see that her thin shoulders are trembling.

He owes her this much at least. He's hurt her so much; she should at least know why.

"My father doesn't care about me," the words are blunt, and frankly, true. Maven lets out a dark chuckle, "He obviously doesn't love me, but he doesn't even hate me either. Sometimes, I think that might even be better. At least that would mean that he felt _something_ towards me, that he thought about me. But he doesn't. I don't matter to him, not when he has Cal."

She watches him through careful eyes and he can feel the room grow hotter as he speaks, his words bouncing off of the cottage walls, "Mare, he was going to _kill_ me today. He looked at me, at his own flesh and blood, and decided to end my life. Who can do that? Who can look at their child and decide to kill them? Most parents would do anything to save their children. My father is the exact opposite."

To his horror, tears spring to his own eyes, wetting his lashes before he can blink them back. His voice cracks, "Because of that, there was always this sort of….emptiness...inside of me. And I just wanted to fix it...to feel whole and loved and important for once in my life. So I-"

She cuts him off then, her slender fingers weaving through his as she brings her other hand to his cheek to wipe the tears he hadn't even realized has escaped. "I'm so sorry," she whispers.

He tangles one hand in her hair as she brings her mouth to his cheek and presses her lips very gently to the swollen skin there. Before he can speak, she moves her mouth up to his forehead, kissing him with the same tenderness. A sigh escapes his mouth as she reaches his other cheek and she smiles very softly, bringing her lips millimeters from his.

"I love you," he says and she kisses him. It's soft, and gentle, without the blur of tongue and teeth and wandering hands from the theater or the suddenness of their first. Her hands weave through his hair, and his settle on her waist. With every movement of their lips, unspoken words pass between them.

This is his apology and her forgiveness.

And he realizes that he doesn't need his father's love after all.

Because being here with her...he's never felt more whole in his life.

She breaks away first, looking sort of dazed and also like she might fall over any second. The weight of the day must finally be taking its toll. He takes her hand, leading her over to the small rickety bed covered by the dusty comforter. She curls willingly into his chest, twining her legs through his and resting her head against him.

He just sits there for a few minutes, content with having her so close. Eventually she speaks, her voice so quiet he almost doesn't hear her at first, "They're coming for us, aren't they?"

He's not going to lie to her, he vows in that moment. Not ever again.

"Yes," he says and she tips her head back to look at him.

"I don't want to die with any regrets," she says and lifts her mouth to his again.

"Mare-" he manages to get out, but she shakes her head, swinging one leg over each side of his body so that she's straddling him. The weight of her body pressing against his is like a shock to the system and he can feel his blood coming to life in his veins as he slips her tongue into his mouth.

Her trembling hands reach for his shirt and he breaks the kiss to look her in the eye. "Do you want this?" his voice is rough, and she touches his jaw, trailing her fingers along the slight stubble there. "Yes," she says, like it's the surest thing in the world.

And then she's kissing him again.

He's thought about sex before, of course, because he's a teenaged boy and that is what teenaged boys think about. He's even thought about it with her, that time at the ball and even late at night when he can't sleep. But the truth is, no prior thoughts could've ever prepared him for what happens in the next minutes.

It's her first time as well as his and her nerves bubble over in hesitant hands and skittish touches, but it's still the best feeling he's ever known in his life. By the time the clothes have fallen away, and she's pressed under him, he needs her so badly it hurts. She finally eases his aching by shifting her hips upward slightly and he sighs, only for panic to set in as her face twists in pain.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, and he can hear the fear in his own voice. He can't help it; the thought of hurting her again scares him for than anything.

"No," she shakes her head, forcing a smile as she reaches up to press her thumb to the corner of his lip, "You're perfect."

"I love you," he says again, and spends the rest of the night proving it.

He senses them before the knock comes at the door. His years on the battlefield have taught him many things, and his hearing and eyesight are far sharper than the average seventeen year old. The crunch of gravel beneath a heavy boot sends him bolting to his feet. Mare's head lifts up sharply as well from where she'd been curled into his chest. Her hair is mussed from sleep and the events of the night before, but her eyes are full of fear.

Clearly she realizes what's happening as well.

Running is an option they'd worn out long ago.

The only choice now is to stand and fight.

Mare stands beside him, her shoulder brushing his, and he borrows some of her strength as the door flies open and a gun is shoved under his nose.

"Hello, Prince Maven," Ptolemus Samos' voice snarls before something heavy slams into his head and the world fades to black.

For a second, he thinks that he might be dead.

But the pain in his head is searing and he's fairly certain that if he were dead that would have gone away by now. Or maybe not. He's not really an expert on how the whole concept of heaven and hell works.

"Maven," his father's voice booms and he lets his head drop back into his hands.

He really is in hell.

He forces himself to his feet, and nearly falls over. His father's expression doesn't shift, even at the sight of the silver blood on his son's clothing.

"Father-" he begins, but Tiberias interrupts him with a furious look cast in his direction.

"What were you thinking?" Tiberias shouts, his voice bouncing off the marble walls as he rises out of his throne, "Befriending that terrible girl, cohorting with terrorists, and then running? Despicable actions." He scoffs, "I thought I raised a better son than that."

Anger wells in his chest, so great that it threatens to swallow him whole. "First of all, you didn't raise me," he says, his voice low and furious, "Mother did. And second of all, all those 'despicable actions' you mentioned right there were the best things that I ever did. You don't even care about your son, much less your kingdom. Without the Guard, the Reds would no one standing up for them. They deserve better than that." He heaves a breath, Father, you can blame Mare for corrupting me, for turning me against you, but in truth, she was the one who made me a better person. I am in love with her. I don't even remember who I was before I met her, and I don't want to."

If his words move Tiberias, his expression betrays nothing. For a minute his lips twitch and Maven's heart soars, thinking that maybe his father has come to his senses, but instead his mouth curls into a flat smirk.

"Sentinels, take him away," is all he says.


End file.
